


Snazzy Practice Gear

by memitims



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Football, Alternate Universe - Soccer, FIFA World Cup 2014, Fluff and Humor, Football | Soccer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-06-20
Packaged: 2018-02-05 11:01:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/memitims/pseuds/memitims
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>inspired by julia’s marvelous <a href="http://closertoblasphemy.tumblr.com/post/88609786165/in-order-to-kick-off-world-cup-2014-properly-here">list</a> and specifically bullet point #9 (deancas world cup au)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snazzy Practice Gear

Dean wakes up to the stupid blaring alarm Cas sets every morning. It isn't anything cool, like the radio or a nice soothing tune, but it's some godawful bleeping noise that Cas insists is the only thing that would actually wake them up in the morning. 

Cas is curled up behind him, chest pressing into Dean's back, and Dean is facing the bedside table, so naturally, it's his responsibility to untangle himself from Castiel's warmth and thwack the button on the alarm. After hitting the living shit out of the stupid device, much to Cas's chagrin, Dean turns around so they are lying face-to-face, noses brushing softly against the pillows. 

"Good morning," Dean says cheerfully, because despite Castiel's silly qualms about the alarm, he is pretty fuckin' happy to wake up next to him every morning. 

Castiel grunts in response, grumpy as usual, and Dean lightly kisses his frown, feeling him wake up under his lips, and the kisses turn into slow, heavy, dragging ones that leave them both breathless. Dean rolls them over so he's laying over Cas's body, and he can sense that other parts of his body are also awake, and Castiel soon realizes where this is going.

"Dean," he says firmly, in his best I-am-the-responsible-one-here-and-I-never-think-about-sex-in-the-morning voice (which is so blatantly untrue that Dean starts to chuckle). "We have to get ready for practice or we're gonna be late. Continuing this line of activity would be unwise."

Dean looks at Cas and Cas looks at Dean. 

"Nahh," they say in unison, laughing against each other's mouths. "I'll make it quick," Dean promises. 

So he moves down Cas's body, pushing his goofy dinosaur boxers out of the way (Dean bought them for him as a joke, trying to lighten the mood after Cas was not-so-nicely called a dinosaur by one of the young, up-and-coming players, who thought making fun of the captain would actually be a good decision. Safe to say, Dean pushed the kid around a bit after those particular comments. And Cas was no dinosaur, not by any means, he could still outrun any of them by a long shot, and his leadership experience was probably the most valuable asset to their team) and takes him down in his mouth as Castiel's hips tilt upwards, and Dean gives him the best pre-practice blowjob of his life. 

Cas reciprocates excellently, nearly driving Dean wild with his lips and tongue and teeth, and they both gasp dramatically when they read the time on the clock, and they rush towards their bathroom to get ready, still warm and fuzzy and a little nervous for the grueling day of practice that awaits them. 

They arrive at the field, luckily, with a few minutes to spare, all decked out in their snazzy practice gear, Dean eyeing his fancy new keeper gloves lovingly because they are clean and shiny and he can't wait to try them out, and they race each other in the locker room to see who can get their cleats and shin-guards on fastest, like usual (Cas usually wins, but only because his shin-guards are all in one piece, opposed to Dean's more complicated situation) and the rest of the team rolls their eyes at Dean and Castiel's antics, like usual. 

It's not until the team gets out onto the pitch that Benny starts laughing at them, slapping his knee and throwing his whole body into his deep chuckles. Dean raises his eyebrows at him, because sometimes Benny is so fuckin' weird. 

"Holy crap," Benny says, still shaking with laughter. "You two are fuckin' priceless. Can't you guys read?"

Cas squints at him and Dean crosses his arms against his chest.

"The hell you talking about Benny?" he asks, brushing his shoulder against Castiel's. 

Benny just moves forward and grabs Cas by the forearms, spins him around and oh crap. In big, bold print emblazoned across Castiel's back is WINCHESTER and the number 7. Dean's 99.9% certain his own back blares a number 6 and the name NOVAK.

Holy shit. 

Dean spreads his hand over his face and laughs quietly into his palm, ignoring the tug in his chest that really really enjoys his jersey on Cas. Cas just looks more confused.

"Okay," Cas says, petulantly. "What. The fuck?"

Dean spins around to show him the back of his jersey, and he hears Castiel just lose it, and he whirls back around because Cas doesn't laugh hard very often, and Dean treasures his stupidly adorable eye crinkles as much as he can. 

"Why the hell are you boys not on the pitch right now?" comes a furious voice from behind them, and they all stop laughing immediately. Jo Harvelle, their hardass of a coach and backbone of the team, steps in front of them, brown eyes blazing, and Dean knows they're dangerously close to being issued a shit-ton of running if they don't listen up. 

"Um," Benny pipes up, "Winchester and Novak grabbed the wrong jerseys." He gestured towards Dean and Cas, and they spun around to show her. "And we were having a bit of a laugh."

Jo's eyes soften, and Dean can see them filling with amusement. She exasperatedly rubs her hand against her brow, laughing quietly to herself, before sighing fondly. 

"Jesus Christ," she huffs out. "That's fuckin' hilarious. However, if I don't see you three out on the pitch in the next seventeen seconds-," she paused, grinning slyly. " -You don't want to know what's gonna happen."

"Got it," comes a chorus from the three of them, and they turn to jog out onto the pitch. 

Needless to say, Dean and Cas don't end up switching jerseys. And both of them are very much okay with that. In fact, after their remarkable win the following Saturday, the team decides, preposterously, that it's their good luck charm. Much to Dean's delight, Castiel ends up with WINCHESTER printed across his back during practice for weeks to come, and he never complains about Cas's jersey being a bit too tight. However, they both enjoy the sight of the two jerseys piled up together on the floor (next to their bed) a whole helluva lot more.


End file.
